


though near or far

by Chicaroscuro



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicaroscuro/pseuds/Chicaroscuro
Summary: When no one arrives to help advocate for the humans, they're sent back to the Bad Place. But instead of individual punishments, Shawn decides to torture everyone as a group - with an extra twist for Michael. Can Team Cockroach pull together to survive and escape a traditional Bad Place neighborhood?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (unforgettable, in every way - and forever more, that's how [you'll](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXjdMV7SOfE) \- )

In a way, Michael had always expected it would come down to this.

He'd  _hoped_ it wouldn't, sure. Even knowing the odds, some tiny too-human part of him had dared to dream that they might all make it out. That they'd win their case, and that even a demon could somehow make it into the Good Place. That they would all stay together forever.

But even that part of him is satisfied with the ending he got. The humans might think well of him, most of the time, but he knows what he is and what he's done. He was never really going to be accepted into the Good Place. No, saving the humans had to be the priority, and he did that. They got out. If there's any justice to be had, they won't come back.

It's so much easier not to be scared, knowing that. He can even mock Shawn to his face, because he's the  _winner_  here, almost as much as he ever could have been.

Almost. The cold marble in his palm reminds him of that.

"Can we just get rid of this guy already?" The Bad Janet perched on Shawn's desk asks, tapping out a text. "I'm sick of listening to him whine."

"Yes. Let's get this over with." But instead of forcing him out of the room, to where his retirement will take place, Shawn just crosses to the front of his desk, leaning back against it as he stands over Michael. The look on his face is...intent.

Michael presses back into the chair, one hand closing tightly around Janet's marble like he can somehow still try to keep her safe. Every instinct is screaming at him to run or to fight, but he knows neither option would get him anywhere. There's a hundred demons outside who would gladly tear him apart if he tried to escape, and if he stood any chance fighting Shawn, he would've tried it long before now. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious? Oh, wait. It's probably not. The stupidity of those humans has obviously rubbed off on you, _"_ Shawn sneers. There's something gathering in the air, a subtle energy Michael can feel humming through the sixth dimension. He shudders. Even Bad Janet seems affected; she's set her phone down on the desk to watch what's going on. "I can't retire you. It'd be too public. But I do need to do something with you, and I've been thinking." He raises a hand. "Maybe not all of your ideas were  _complete_ garbage."

"Wh - wait,  _no!_ " Michael lunges forward, barely registering Bad Janet doing the same, because neither of them reaches Shawn before he snaps - 

 

* * *

 

Eleanor expects the demons to tear them apart from each other as soon as they go back through the portal.

But instead, they're greeted on the other side by a pair of large, bored-looking guys. "That took a while," one of them comments, as they move to flank the group of humans. "Come with us." 

"Yeah, great, hi to you too." Eleanor grumbles. But she allows herself to be herded along - one of her hands is in Chidi's, and the other is in Tahani's, and as long as they're moving on their own, they aren't being separated just yet. 

The room's busy now, a hive of demonic activity. Eleanor hadn't taken much of it in before. There's lines of desks that look like they belong in an old-timey bank, and even a coffee machine set up to one side. It's all so ridiculously mundane. The demons look like nothing more than a bunch of pasty cubicle dwellers, except for the open amusement in their eyes as they turn to watch the humans being marched past. Eleanor clenches her jaw and lifts her chin, refusing to acknowledge them. She doesn't think she's ever held hands with anyone for this long, ever in her life. She can't suppress the thought that they all probably look like a bunch of kindergartners lining up for recess.

But she doesn't care about any of that now. She made her choice to stay with them, no matter what. She'll hold on as long as she can.

They're directed right through the center of the bullpen, between all the desks, and into one of the overlooking offices. Their escort shuts the door behind them, and a lock clicks into place.

The office is lit in the same dull grey light as the rest of the building. A Bad Janet sulks in the corner, twirling her bottle-blond hair around one finger. At the desk, Shawn glances up from some paperwork. "Oh. It's you four."

" _Oh, it's us?_ " Eleanor echoes disbelievingly. Behind her, Chidi is standing close, and she can hear the clunk-clunk-clunk of someone trying the doorknob. "Man, you are trying  _way_ too hard to be cool about this! That party must've pretty embarrassing for you, huh?"

_"Eleanor!"_  Chidi hisses in a panic. She ignores him. What, are they gonna get tortured even  _more_ forever?

Shawn just looks unmoved. "That was a minor inconvenience. You four are the last loose ends, and you're about to be tied up."

The last loose ends. There's been a pit in Eleanor's stomach for hours, one she was trying to ignore, and it aches at that. She glances around the office again, as if she'll find Michael alive and well and just...hiding behind the coat rack or something. It's stupid. Janet probably escaped to her void, but she _saw_ Michael get captured by Shawn. He's not a loose end. He's just  _gone._

"Hey, Janet!" Jason waves at the Bad Janet, then turns to Shawn. "Hey, boss guy! My name's Jake Jortles, and I work in the Molotov Cocktail department."

"What? No. I know who you are." 

"Dude, I know who you are too! That's so rad! Oh, but, can we still ball tap?" Only Tahani's hand in his stops Jason from darting around the desk. Shawn jerks back a little at the sudden movement, watching with a glint of wary confusion in his otherwise still-stony gaze. Eleanor can't help but grin a little. Shawn's never really dealt with Jason much, has he? 

She'd love to inflict a little more on him, just to see how much that composure can crack. But Tahani's half-hiding behind her, whatever confidence carried her through her argument with the Judge completely spent. Chidi's breaths are coming short and shallow in her ear. He's about to have a panic attack, or he's having one already. Eleanor wouldn't mind going down hissing and spitting. If she were alone, she might even see if she could give Shawn a black eye, just for a fun memory to hold onto while she's being burned alive. But she's not alone, and the others are still reeling from the failed tests. Drawing this out would just be...kinda cruel.

"Okay." She squeezes Chidi and Tahani’s hands and takes a deep breath. “If you're gonna torture us, just do it already. Full offense, but being in here with you is already bad enough.”

"You’re so eager." Shawn sits up straighter, scrutinizing her. That brief hint of feeling is entirely gone. God, Eleanor would feel so much better if he'd just have facial expressions like a normal person! "To be honest, so am I. This is going to be fun. Bad Janet, take them to their new neighborhood." 

"Ugh, fine."  Without looking up from her phone, Bad Janet steps forward and holds out a hand to them. Eleanor leans back.

"All of us? We're going together?" She's not sure how to feel about that. It has to be some kind of trap. Watching her friends get their limbs peeled doesn't sound like her idea of a good time, but it still might be... _slightly_ better than going through that alone? Maybe? 

Shawn raises an eyebrow. "Would you prefer being separated?"

"No! No, that's - " Silently, she curses herself for losing her cool. Now he knows that it  _matters_ to her. " - whatever, man." 

"Blah blah blah, are you idiots done talking yet? Yeah? Great." Bad Janet leans forward to touch Eleanor's shoulder, and with a soft  _bloop!,_ the world vanishes.

* * *

 

Existence pops back a second later. Or, well, it kind of doesn't. 

"Oh, man!" Jason says, tugging loose of Tahani to look around at the featureless black surrounding them. "This is just like that time those guys stole Michael's office!" 

The Bad Janet lets go of Eleanor, sweeping a disdainful gaze over the group. "Later, losers."  _Bloop!_

Eleanor holds her position for a second, then relaxes. "She's gone. Okay, guys, group up. They're not just gonna leave us in a void,  _something's_  gonna happen." She waves her hands impatiently, until the others form a vague back-to-back circle. There's nothing to look at - darkness around them, darkness above them. She's not even sure what they're standing on. Could it be more darkness?

"I appreciate what you're doing, Eleanor," Chidi says, rubbing his hands anxiously on his pant legs as he peers around into the void, "but I really don't think this is gonna help."

"Shhhhh!" She  _knows_  it's not going to help. It just makes her feel better, acting like they can protect themselves somehow. "Just keep an eye out. We might have a few minutes, they haven't even set this place up yet. Get ready to run, or kick a demon in the - "

_Bloop!_

Everyone scatters away from the sound, yelping in alarm. But, seeing who it is, they don't run or kick. "Oh, Michael, you startled us!" Tahani gasps, pressing a hand over her chest. 

"Why does  _everyone_  have to do that today?" Chidi demands of no one. Eleanor ignores them all, striding right up to Michael. 

There's another Bad Janet with him, watching him carefully over the top of her phone - but it's probably just regular Janet, right? She must've gotten away and saved him from wherever Shawn put him. And she must have done it quick, too. He's still dressed in that drab grey suit, but he doesn't seem to be hurt at all. Not even mildly ruffled. This whole time, she's been stressing out over what must be happening - what must be happening to him because of  _her_ \- and he's just been having hijinks with Janet? 

She should be relieved. No, she  _is_ relieved. But what comes out of her mouth is "What the  _fuck,_ man?", and what she does is punch him in the arm. 

He looks at the spot where she hit him, and then back at her. He isn't smiling, she realizes, or even readying an apology. He's just watching her, brow furrowed, like she's a homework problem he hasn't quite managed to crack yet. Eleanor's anger drops off suddenly, replaced by something colder. Michael hasn't given her a look like that for a long time.

She starts to step back, but he catches at her hand. "Hey, now. No need to run off so fast." His voice is soft. His fingers curl easily around her wrist, and squeeze.

"Let go of me." Eleanor tries to yank her arm away. Michael doesn't let go. 

"Michael?" Chidi takes a step forward. Michael's eyes dart to him for a second, and then he smiles and twists his hand in a quick sharp motion. Something in Eleanor's wrist snaps. Even she can't suppress a scream.

Everyone explodes. "How  _dare_ you?" Tahani shrieks, lunging towards Michael, fire apparently returned. "What on earth do you think you're _doing_?" She'd be getting up in his face, but Chidi's holding her back. He's put himself between the two, not taking his eyes off Michael, though he's still muttering frantically about how this isn't good, this  _really_ isn't good. Jason's the one brave or foolish enough to dart forward and tug Eleanor away. She lets him wrap his arm around her shoulders, sucks in harsh breaths and blinks hard to clear her eyes.

Amid the chaos, Michael smiles and raises both hands. "Okay, I can see that you're all a little confused here. Why don't we start this over again?" His tone's genial. It reminds Eleanor of the first time they met, in that office where he told her she'd arrived in the Good Place. "This is hell. You're being tortured, starting now. Bad Janet, don't just _stand_ there, construct the neighborhood."

Bad Janet doesn't fire any comments back. She just waves a hand. 

There's no fire, no screaming; the floor doesn't become spiders. Instead, cobblestones spread out from beneath their feet like ripples on a pond. Colorful houses and storefronts fold up out of the ground, constructing themselves just as quickly as they'd dissolved, and as a bright blue sky closes in above them and the bright, cheerful facade of the fake Good Place is completed, Bad Janet turns and socks Michael right in the jaw. 

The blow catches him off-guard, and surprisingly hard; he actually sails back a few feet before hitting the ground. "Hi, guys!" Janet chirps, giving the humans a smile that's much too tight. "It's me, Good Janet, and we need to run  _right now!_ " With that, she tears off down the streets. No one hesitates to run after her.

Eleanor only gets a quick glance back before they round a corner, down a narrow alley and out of sight. Michael's already picking himself up off the ground. His grin is wide as he watches them go; there's a glint in his eye. He's going to chase them. And she knows Michael well. She knows that look.

He's going to have  _fun_ with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn snaps his fingers. 

Michael stops immediately, listing forward with the momentum of his aborted lunge. Janet freezes, her own hand still outstretched towards Shawn.

Shawn’s too busy chuckling to himself to notice. He leans forward to push Michael back into his chair. Michael, glassy-eyed and pliant, lets him do it. He doesn't even seem to notice. And Janet, watching, can't move.

That's illogical, of course. She's not broken. Her motor functions are intact. But - 

But Shawn turns to look at her, and Janet  _has_  to pull back. "What's wrong with  _him?_ ” she asks, wrenching her gaze back down to her phone. She can feel her voice wanting to waver, and it’s all she can do to keep it level. If she looks Shawn in the eye right now, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. It’s the most terrifying lack of knowledge she’s experienced yet.

"Not much. I've just reset his memories, back to before this whole mess started." Shawn returns to his chair as he explains, settles in and starts shuffling papers around like nothing's happened. "I'll give them back to him after he’s spent a few hundred years  _properly_ torturing those humans that he loves so much. Maybe this will cure him of that delusion – but if not, I’ll be  _more_ than happy to do it all over again."

Janet runs her tongue over her lips. It doesn't matter what she wants to say. She won't be any good to anyone if she's caught - not that she was much good here and now. "That's...super diabolical." 

It sounds flat to her ears. Shawn just leans back in his chair with a thin smile. "He wants unauthorized reboots? He can  _have_  them. Quiet, he's coming around." 

Michael's straightening up, blinking hard like he can't quite focus. He jolts when he notices Shawn watching him. "Uh, sorry, boss. Kinda...spaced out there."

He doesn't even look at Janet. Neither of them do, now that there's another demon to speak to. Janet has never met an angel; she has no idea how they would have treated her, if she hadn't been stolen. She does know that their Architects don’t stay in their Neighborhoods, either. Maybe it would have been about the same, then.

More than anything, she knows that Michael did stay.  _Michael's_  never acted like she wasn't even in the room. Maybe he had at first, back in the beginning, but never the Michael she’d known.

It doesn’t matter. There’s no one left now to remember what came before.

"Pay more attention," Shawn scolds Michael mildly. "As I was saying, I have a special assignment for you. Four particular humans who need to be tortured. Some idiot woke them from stasis before they were placed, and they were loose in Headquarters for a few days before they were recaptured.”

“ _Seriously?”_ Michael leans forward in shock. “That’s – that’s one of the first things we learn. What rookie screwed  _that_ up?”

“No one worth mentioning.” Shawn glances at Janet for the first time. It’s an uncomfortably familiar gesture; he’s looking for someone to appreciate that little joke. She mashes a string of As and semicolons into her phone and pretends not to see. “Anyway. Now they think they know all about us. Real experts. I need someone to break them of that, and I think you’re the man for the job.”

"Me?" Michael looks surprised, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a hesitant grin. "Yeah - yeah, of course! I won’t let you down."

"I’m sure you won’t. Here are their files."

Michael takes the stack of folders Shawn holds out, and flips the top one open. Leaning forward, Janet can see the edge of a photograph; a flash of blonde hair. Michael only looks at it for a second. “Anything specific you want done?”

"I’ll leave that to your discretion. Just keep quiet about it – I don’t want upper management hearing about this." He narrows his eyes for a moment, then adds: "I want these humans to  _really_ suffer. If you can do that and be circumspect, I may be willing to review your application for Architect status again.”

“ _Really_?” Michael grins and hops to his feet. It’s like he just couldn’t contain that little bounce of excitement.

"I guess I’ll go, too." Janet hops off the desk. Her chest is aching all of a sudden, and her voice sounds desperate even to herself. She has to go. She needs to stay with him. Who knows what could happen otherwise? "I'd love to watch these losers' guts fly everywhere." 

"Great! Come on." Michael heads out the door, all grins. She’s never seen him that happy before – not about anything that wasn’t human stuff. It makes sense; he’d tried all the torture so many times already, it had probably been hard for him to keep finding new things to be excited about.

Once he's gone, Shawn smiles just a little. "Take notes on what he does here. I'm going to need specifics to rub in his face later."

Janet thought that she’d experienced hate before. But now, looking at Shawn, that wounded anger she’d felt towards Jason seems so small. She’ll burst into tears if she stays, or she’ll slam his head into his desk until he can never smile like that again. That option sounds more satisfying.

It still wouldn’t be productive, though. So she just nods sharply, and turns to hurry after her best friend.

 

* * *

 

"I should have stopped it," Janet concludes, worrying the sleeve of her leather jacket. Her voice is tight. Her face isn't doing much, like she's not sure what expression she should have. "That was the  _whole reason_ I was there to begin with! And now, because I couldn’t, we’re all back here. I don’t even know why I made the fake Good Place again, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Eleanor cradles her hand against a frozen carton of Petting a Puppy-flavored yogurt. She’s got a wrist brace on, courtesy of Janet, but she hadn't been able to just fix the damage. Apparently, access to Human Settings is one of the first things that gets disabled if there’s a rouge Janet.

They’ve settled down in the tiny back kitchen of The Suggestion of Yogurt, which in Eleanor’s opinion was not even one of the better frozen yogurts places around. Janet's sitting ramrod-straight with her back against the entrance. She’s still wearing her Bad Janet clothes, but she’s still twisting her hands together anxiously.

Everyone else is just sitting around, exhausted. Tahani has affected a sort of artful droop against a shelf, resting her cheek against it like some beautiful sad person in a movie. Only Jason’s active at all, and even he seems a little listless, mechanically eating yogurt from his own carton.

Eleanor’s listing against Chidi's shoulder herself. If it weren't for the throbbing pain in her wrist, she could fall asleep. This feels like the first time for days that they've all managed to sit down. You can only go through literal Hell so many times before you need a breather, she guesses.

"Oh, Janet. It isn’t your fault." Tahani manages to rouse herself, and leans forward to lay a hand on Janet's knee. "You couldn't have known what Shawn was plotting. Why, if you could stop a demon from doing something like that, you probably would have stopped Michael’s reboots long ago!”

"How can this even happen?" Chidi asks. "Michael's a demon. Can demons just  _do_ that to each other, is everybody running around wiping memories all the time here?"

Janet shakes her head. "It’s never been done before. But it makes sense. Michael  _is_ currently inhabiting a human body, and Shawn is his superior. Technically, anything Michael could do to you, Shawn can do to him."

"So what do we do? We can't just sit here and eat frozen yogurt until Michael comes to forking disembowel us." Eleanor presses her eyes shut. "Ughhhh, Janet,  _why_ did you take away the cursing again?"

"You said that this was possible because Michael was in a human body." Chidi speaks slowly, like he's still working out the thought. "If we could get him to  _leave_ that body somehow, would his memories still be there in whatever plane of existence he'd be on?"

"Unclear. But that process  _is_  meant for wiping human flesh brains. It's possible that without one, he’d be fine." Janet frowns. “But like I said, it hasn’t been done before. I can’t say for sure what would happen.”

"Oh, so like - if you drop your phone, you gotta get a new one, and connect it to the clouds, and they put all your stuff on it again!" Jason asks around a mouthful of yogurt. "Janet, can you make us an Apple store? Ooooh, or a hang-glider and a really big fan!”

"That - wow. That comparison actually kinda helps." Eleanor’s smashed her phone often enough; she knows all about that backup stuff. She sits up straight and sets her yogurt down, taking the time to feel out her idea. Lately she's been working on not just blurting out the first shitty thing that flies through her head. Michael's usually the only one who thinks any of it's funny. That hasn't really helped - giggling over horrible stuff with him kinda makes her day sometimes - but he's not here now, and the reminder of his absence helps her stay on track.

He'd think this were funny. Heck, Evil Michael probably would too. "So,” she says. “We gotta kill Michael."

"No!" Chidi bursts out immediately in a strangled voice. "What? No! That's not where I was going with that! I just thought...I don't know." He shakes his head a little. "Maybe we could just kinda  _convince_  him to leave his body?"

"What, just 'cause we said so?" Eleanor snorts. "That's never gonna work. It's not like we're killing him for  _real,_  man, he's an immortal, magical demon. We're just helping him be...even more magical!"

"It would still hurt! Non-lethally harming someone still isn't - "

"Hold on a moment," Tahani interrupts. "Is it even possible for us kill Michael? As you said, he  _is_ a demon. I'm sure at some point during all those resets, at least one of us probably tried to fight him…?" To her credit, she manages to not look directly at Eleanor or Jason as she asks this.

Eleanor winces a little, remembering Mindy's little theory board. Those knife attack plans were all in her handwriting, and obviously none of them had worked. "Uh, I don't know. Janet?"

"The human bodies demons use are more durable than normal ones. For example, they can withstand temperatures of several trillion degrees! Also, I punched him  _very_  hard in the face, and his skull didn’t shatter!” Janet smiles, bright and brittle. “But they are technically destructible."

"Great. So what kills them?"

“Eleanor!”

"Dude!" she exclaims back at Chidi. "Look, you think I'm super excited about murdering Michael? The only reason this even happened is because he sacrificed himself for me! Michael’s my friend, and he’s kinda a shockingly good dude. But if we wanna try to get  _that_  guy back, we’ve gotta get rid of the one who’s here now. It's that thing you said before...the doctrine of double effect!"

"Sorry, the what?" Tahani's looking between them - and that's right, she and Jason missed a whole lot of ethics stuff while they were off boning, huh?

"The doctrine of double effect. It means that if we're genuinely trying to help, and death is just a… _really_  unfortunate side-effect..."

Chidi trails off and gets to his feet to pace. After a second, he takes off his glasses to try and clean them with his shirt. Even though she recognizes the anxious tic, Eleanor can’t help but grin a little. He's actually chewing it over. Her point was good! She is knocking it out of the  _park_ on this ethics stuff lately! "I don't know,” he says finally. “That does seem like it could be applicable –  _but,_ we know for sure that it’s going to cause harm, and we haven’t really considered any other options. Janet, is it possible that - "

A cracking, groaning sound bursts through the room. It sounds like a tree falling over right next to them, and Eleanor flinches instinctively.

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Michael leans in, through the open window of the previously windowless kitchen, elbows propped casually on the sill.

Janet draws in a sharp breath; the window vanishes. She's on her feet before Eleanor can even formulate a response. "Okay, we're leaving now!" 

Eleanor scrambles upright, letting Jason help pull her, as everyone rushes out of the room. She expects Michael to be standing in the restaurant outside, waiting for them. But no – they emerge into a completely unfamiliar hallway. It's long and dark, with a strange flat quality like they've stepped into a black-and-white movie. Long shadows criss-cross the floor, even though there's nothing there to cast them.

“Ooooh, he’s messing with the controls.” Janet hesitates only a second before picking a direction. “I can fix it, just keep moving.”

They run. Around them, the hallway stretches and shifts, back into something that looks like it belongs in a frozen yogurt place. But it only stays that way for a second before the pastel paint melts into rough wood, which blurs back into soft green wallpaper that Eleanor only barely sees before it’s suddenly smooth black stone. The changes are dizzying, and they aren’t stopping.

The rest of reality is shifting around too, even the floor beneath their feet. Eleanor stumbles on something she can’t quite see, catching herself on a wall that shifts textures beneath her hand. "Janet, can you fix it faster?"

"I'm trying! He just keeps overwriting it!"

The wall turns into something Eleanor really hopes is raw chicken, and the floor sags under her weight. She presses her eyes shut, fighting back nausea. "Oh god, this is like a  _really_ bad trip."

"I don't know." Michael's voice hums low in her ear, amused. "I think I like it."

Eleanor reacts on instinct. She whirls to shove him away, but  _she’s_ the one who ends up stepping back as pain shoots up her hurt arm. Michael just laughs in her face, bright and condescending.

But Jason, who's closest to her, doesn’t hesitate. He takes three quick steps, lifts his arm, and -

“ICE MOLOTOV!”

-  hurls his carton of frozen yogurt into Michael’s face.

Yogurt explodes everywhere. Eleanor flinches from the spray, grabbing for Jason's arm. “Go, go!” 

But as they move, the hallway twists like a wet rag being wrung, collapsing in on itself. The last thing Eleanor sees before it snaps shut is Chidi's desperate face as he reaches for them. And then he's gone. She can't even hear him, if he's shouting. "Fork!" She slams a palm against the wall. It's unyielding. It doesn't change again.

They're trapped.

Eleanor turns, herding Jason behind her. She can handle this. She knows Michael better than anybody...and then she sees Michael and abruptly loses her train of thought. There's bright pink rivulets of yogurt running down his nose and chin. His hair's fucking soaked. "Oh,  _man_." She snorts. She shouldn't laugh - oh, but she is, she's full-on laughing now. The past few days have obviously been way, way too long. “Wow, I can’t believe we were actually running from you! I wish I could get a picture of this!”

Michael gives a wry little chuckle, like he always does when she scores a point on him. Shaking his head, he produces a handkerchief from somewhere and starts to clean his glasses. “I can’t believe you actually did that. Takes some balls to try fending off a demon with...is this frozen yogurt?” He licks some off his lips. "Man. Couldn't even spare some ice cream?"

"I dunno, homie, this stuff's  _pretty_ dope." Jason perks up. "Hey, if you let us go, I can go get more and we can have a froyo fight later? You could totally get me back!"

“That doesn't sound half bad.” Michael smiles a little and snaps his fingers to banish the yogurt from reality. “I was just gonna tie you all down and rip you to pieces - you know, normal stuff - but this chase thing is  _really_  fun! I could make a whole thing of it. Like a fox hunt, just sic a bunch of centipede-hounds on you, get some horses…”

He trails off with a wistful sigh. “Well. I'll have plenty of time to play around once I'm done here. Let's go get your friends."

Michael snaps his fingers, and the world goes black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's some torture in this one

When Eleanor wakes up, her shoulders are on fire.

That's not literal, which it  _totally_ could've been. No, her arms are bound above and slightly behind her head at a  _really_ painful angle. Her wrists are encased in thick metal - and, notably, not her wrist brace!  _Awesome_.

She's in the town square. It's wrecked. The buildings are all just burnt-out shells, and a few of them have caved in entirely. It feels like such a weird  _Michael_ touch - she knows there hasn't been enough time for everything to have  _really_ burned down, so he must have just redone the buildings for the look of it. What a drama queen.

If she cranes her neck, she can catch a glimpse of the lawn, still green in the corner of her eye. It was maybe two days ago, but it feels like years since the six of them sat out there. They were all tired of dancing, so they spread blankets out on the grass like little kids at a picnic...

Eleanor shakes her head sharply.  _Focus._

Jason is a few feet away, in the same position. He's still out, which means that his arms, bound to the streetlight above him, are holding up most of his weight. The angles of his shoulder-blades beneath his skin look painful. Eleanor swallows. "Jason!" 

He doesn't move.

Eleanor growls in frustration. Maybe she could get him down if she got loose herself? She yanks at her own restraints, twisting her wrists. There's zero give. The metal cuts into her skin, and she has to clench her jaw tight to keep from gasping aloud, as  _something_ pops painfully in her shoulders. Black spots dance in her vision. She blinks hard at the ground. She can't pass out again. 

"Hey, you're awake!" Michael's there as her vision starts to clear. He's clean and composed again, still wearing that same grey suit. He spreads his hands and grins. "Good news! Your friends abandoned you!"

"Oh no..." Eleanor would love to roll her eyes, but she has to settle for steadying her breathing. It doesn’t mean anything. The others are way too smart to charge in here right away. They'll make a plan, figure out something that'll  _work,_ and  _then_  they'll come. 

They'll have more time to do that if Michael's busy here. She should try to keep his attention on her, and off the nerd squad out there.

"Real creative look you got here." She nods around at all the fire damage. "I'm surprised you aren't literally holding a pitchfork and wearing little fake devil horns. What is that, blood?"

His brow furrows as he glances over his shoulder at the dark liquid flowing through the town fountain. "Antimatter, actually. If you drank it, your body would slowly start to explode from the insi -"

"Isn't that just demon coffee?" He'd told her about it once - one late night when they were the only ones still trying to finish their papers for class the next day.

_("It'd tear you apart, of course,"_  he'd said, his tone towards her human weaknesses already a little kinder by then, " _but I do wish you could have some. I think you'd like the blend I keep in my office._ ")

...she can't think about that now. "I mean, you should've gone with clam chowder.  _That's_ scary."

Michael stoops a little to catch her gaze. She hadn't even realized she'd started staring at the cobblestones. "That's a weird, gross idea."

"Ha, yeah. That's me." Eleanor grits her teeth in frustration. Fork this, what's she getting all sad for? It's not going to change anything. "So is sitting here listening to you talk part of the torture, or what?"

"Oh, I  _beg_ your pardon, Eleanor! Is this not hellish enough for you? How about this, you can pick how I wake Jason up. He doesn't need  _all_ of his bones, does he?" Michael turns to pace around Jason's body, slowly and theatrically like the son of a bench he is. "How about the kneecap? We can watch him try to walk around without any kneecaps. It's actually pretty funny, the legs just sort of - "

The gesture he makes flips Eleanor's stomach. It's not like she  _wants_ to get tortured, but watching him hurt Jason would be even worse. What's  _Jason_  ever done to anyone? 

...okay. Okay, no. But what's he ever done to anyone in the  _afterlife_? 

" _Jason_!" Eleanor snaps again. Her legs aren't bound, so she slams her heel back against her streetlamp hard. The force of the  _thunk_ vibrates through the metal, and rattles her skull for good measure.

"What?" Jason jerks awake to see Michael looming over him. To his credit, he shrinks back as far as he can. "Oh. Hey, dude! Uh - " He glances up at his hands. " - aw, man, I guess you won. But I bet it if we did it again, we could stay away  _twice_ as long?"

Eleanor gasps. "We so could! Jason, Jason, tell him that thing you told me about the baby manatee."

"Oh yeah! That was the best hiding I've ever done!" Jason lights up, and Eleanor feels a sudden swell of camaraderie. She can't tell if he's picked up on her idea of stalling Michael, but he's always so ready to just throw his lot in with her. It's easy to imagine how so many of her trips to Mindy's included him. "I was out in the swamp for  _three whole days._ See, this one time me and Donkey Doug went to the marina, and - "

"I get it," Michael interrupts. "You're both trashbags. I understand." He's slipped his hands into his pockets, head canted slightly in confusion at Jason. It's such a familiar posture that Eleanor wishes he'd do something else. "You know, the other humans I deal with aren't normally so talkative. You do  _realize_  that you're in Hell, right? And I'm going to..."

He trails off, brow furrowing. Pulling his hands back out of his pockets, he turns his back to them. “What’s that?” Eleanor cranes her neck as far as she can without hurting herself. It's not far. "Jason, what's he got?"

Jason's a little closer, and probably way more flexible. "It's a blue marble!" he reports, leaning farther out from his lamppost. "It's kinda pretty." 

"It's none of your business," Michael snaps, shoving the marble back into his pocket and sharply tugging his jacket back into order. 

But Eleanor's already connecting the dots. "Michael," she asks evenly. "Do you have a Good Janet marble?"

" _No._ You don't even know what you're talking about."

Michael bristles. Eleanor grins. Bingo. 

She still doesn't think she can talk him around. Michael thought they were a bunch of cockroaches; they all  _know_ he only ended up with them because he was desperate. But Eleanor can turn the tables a little. She can get under  _his_ skin. "Oh, I know a lot of things, buddy. I even know where you got that - 'cause you  _don't,_ do you?" She drawls, ignoring the pain as she leans forward. "That's a  _pretty weird_  thing for you to have, isn't it? Aren't you curious?"

Michael falters. Only for a second, but Eleanor can see it. " _Please_. I have more knowledge than you could ever  _hope_ to - "

"Yeah yeah yeah, you can see in nine dimensions and you're old as balls.  _Whatever_ , man. Doesn't mean we can't know something you don't know."

"I know a ton of things you don't know anymore," Jason agrees. "It's kinda a bummer? And - it being a bummer is actually  _one_ of the things you don't know! Dang, that’s deep, yo."

"Shut up!" Michael throws his hands up, like he can’t believe Jason’s even speaking. "Nobody asked you for your opinion,  _Jason._ I read your file. The only thing you're an expert on is  _being stupid_."  

"No, he's right." It’s getting darker out. Eleanor can't tell if it's just evening settling in or something to do with Michael’s mood. Either way, the only color left in this place is getting hard to see. "I mean,  _fork._ This is  _such_ a bummer! I really hate this, I wish you'd just…”

Michael’s cocking an eyebrow at her over his glasses, his lips curled into a mocking little grin. Her words trail off as she meets his eyes, and her insides twist with regret. "What're you smiling at?” she snaps. “This is  _really_  the most sad for you! Like, wow! You let a bunch of humans and a Janet get one over on you basically two seconds into your weird little project here?"

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I have everything under control." 

"Oh, yeah?" Eleanor scoffs. "'Cause it kinda seems like you have no idea what's going on. I  _know_ you guys don't usually make a whole neighborhood for just four people. Did you even ask any questions about this whole thing?"

Michael has the nerve to laugh. “Why would I do that? This is great! I've been wanting a little more hands-on work – and my boss considers you four a special project. It's a win-win. Except for you all, you all lose." 

"Neat! I've always wanted to be someone's special project!" Jason exclaims. "So is this like a promotion?"

"...sure. It basically is." 

Eleanor frowns at the hesitation. "It’s totally not, is it? Are you even an architect anymore, or are you back on that desk job you don't like?"

"Wh - a _nymore_?" Michael steps closer, lowering his voice. "What do you mean, anymore?"

She shrugs as much as she can, clanking her shackles. Her wrist throbs. “I dunno! I mean, you’re the one who said we don’t know anything. Guess it must’ve just been nothing.”

“Bullshirt.” Michael frowns. “That’s bullshirt. Why can’t I – did that Bad Janet put a profanity filter in here?”

“Janet's not bad!" Jason protests. "She's super cool, and nice, and a total hottie. Man, I can't believe you even forgot how great Janet is. I thought everybody knew that." 

Michael tugs his glasses off in one hand. “You know what?" He pinches the bridge of his nose, like he's getting a headache. "I don’t normally actually  _hate_ the humans I torture. It’s just all in a day’s work. But you two are  _really_ pushing it right now, and lemme tell you?” 

He reaches out and puts his hand over Jason’s mouth, almost gently pushing his head back until it meets the pole. “That’s a great way to get your mouth melted shut," he says, and Jason jerks with a muffled cry of pain. 

“Woah woah woah!” Eleanor yelps in a panic. The skin around Michael's fingers is starting to turn red. She can hear _sounds,_ like when you fry bacon. “Why are you doing that to  _him?_ What about me?” She starts banging her foot against the pole again, shouting over the clanging and the ringing in her ears. “I'm the one who keeps talking about what an idiot you're being! If you shut me up, Jason'll shut up too!" 

Michael arches an eyebrow at her. Jason's thrashing doesn’t faze him. “What are you saying? I should take you, instead?”

“Is that an option?” Eleanor meets Jason’s eyes for a second. She recognizes the type of fear there. She won’t hesitate, though, not here when the air is already starting to smell like burnt hair and meat. It’s her turn. “Because if it is, then yeah. Melt away, buddy. Right in the kisser, here we go.”

“ _Why?”_ Michael finally pulls away from Jason. She only gets a glimpse of the ugly handprint-shaped burn across his face before Michael’s too close, staring down his nose at her. That nasty grin is gone; his expression is closed-off, inscrutable. “Because he’s your friend?”

“Yeah.” She stares back at him, stomach in knots. It’s stupid to hope, but all of a sudden, just for a second, it's like he’s not having fun with this. Like he’s _listening to her._ “Yeah. That’s how you solve the trolley problem. Remember? You sacrifice yourself."

Michael returns her gaze steadily for a moment.

And then he scoffs. “Pffft,  _please_. That's the dumbest and  _grossest_ thing I've ever heard. Do you honestly think he’d ever do the same thing for you? ‘Cause I can tell you right now, he wouldn’t.”

Jason makes a quiet noise of protest. Michael doesn’t seem to notice as he leans down, until his face is barely an inch from Eleanor’s. “Someone like you? You've never had friends, Eleanor. You never even had a family. You died alone in a parking lot. And sure, some people  _noticed._ But none of them cared, not  _really._ Your friends got a new roommate three days later, ended up giving her most of your stuff. They called her New Eleanor for a month. Still do sometimes, when they’re drunk. It’s like nothing even happened." 

He tilts his head slightly, lips curling into a smile. "Maybe some people thought you were fun to hang out with, Eleanor. Maybe they’ll tolerate you on their little adventures. but at the end of the day? You're just not worth sacrificing anything for."

Eleanor's eyes are stinging. Her chest is tight, and _fork,_ she can’t cry now. She can’t cry! What is she, some stupid little kid?

“Fork you." She lets out her breath in a sharp huff. "Fork  _you,_ Michael!” She flails her legs in a useless attempt at a kick, one he sidesteps easily. “You wanna do this? Fine! Let's do this! The only reason you're being such a dink is because you’re starting to freak out and you can’t admit it!"

“This again?” Michael sighs. "Could you just - "

“Don't interrupt me!" Eleanor snaps. The words are coming easily now, almost like someone else is doing the talking. "You have no idea what’s going on and you _know_ it. You're always acting like you've got things under control, but you never,  _ever_  do. Shawn’s never gonna make you an architect now, because he knows you’ll screw it up, just like you screwed up with us!”

Michael's lip curls. “Be  _quiet_.”

Jason's hissing something, but Eleanor can't hear him over the rushing in her head. "And you know what, you talk a really big game for a guy who has  _definitely_ never had anybody give a crap about him before! Yeah, I know you're all demons, but nobody ever hangs out with  _you_ at the office parties, huh, buddy? Nobody wants  _you_  on their projects." 

He'd told her that on the train. She remembers it well: his voice low, his bony knee knocking against hers, with his purple bowtie laid carefully out across it while he looped its straight red replacement around his neck. It was one of the last times they spoke. 

Now it’s just so easy to spit it back in his face. "Nobody likes you. They all just think you’re some annoying dweeb who’s _way_ too into office supplies! Who's ever gonna sacrifice anything for  _you,_ Michael?"

"I  _told you_ to  _be quiet!"_

If she hadn't been too angry to pay attention, Eleanor might have expected the sudden shouting. She's not sure she could have predicted the way Michael turns on his heel and lunges for her, eyes hard and lips drawn back like a feral cat. But then again - as his long fingers close around her throat, Eleanor suddenly remembers the trolley, and Chidi's face painted with gore. Lashing out.

She'd laugh if she could breathe. Yep. They’re a real pair of classic Shellstrops. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this story concept seems kinda prescient now, huh. i'm living.
> 
> anyway there's body horror in this one. also tw: emetophobia

"This is bad. This is so, _so_ bad."

"Chidi, please," Tahani sighs, for what sounds like the thousandth time. Her arm is firmly linked with his. He’s dimly aware that she’s been steering him for a while, keeping him upright and making sure he heads in the right direction. It's really nice of her; she can't be having an easy time of this either. Maybe he should stop freaking out directly into her ear.

He's not sure how long it's been since they escaped Michael's last attack - time and space are apparently both _lies_ now - but the sky is starting to darken into evening. They've made it into the forest just outside of town. Chidi's trying not to think about the ever-deepening shadows beneath the trees, and all the things that could be hiding there.

Despite everything, Janet's steps are still quick and certain. "We can fix this," she insists, like a mantra. "We can fix this. I'm going to get you two somewhere safe, and then I'll go back for Jason and Eleanor."

"What are you going to do when you find them?" Tahani asks.

"I - " Janet sucks in a breath, lifting her hands halfway to her head before letting them drop. "I'll figure it out!"

Chidi looks away, peering into the silent woods. There were animals out here once. Owls and crickets would call in their backyard at night. Sometimes he would stay up late grading papers on the patio, and watch fireflies flicker and dance over the lawn. Rabbits, and even the odd deer, used to tear up Tahani's flower gardens at least twice a week, until Michael took pity on her and snuck a slightly kinder software update past Vicky.

Suffice it to say, Chidi does not anticipate any more small mercies.

" _Is_ there anywhere safe for us?” he asks. “I don’t mean to be a downer, but it seems like he's got as much control as you do. He could just – just make it _rain bears._ "

“He’s not going to make it rain bears!” Janet pauses. “He _probably_ won’t make it rain bears. I don’t think he’s coming after us anymore, because he thinks he doesn’t have to. He thinks we’ll go back for the others.”

“Well, he’s right, _obviously._ ” Tahani pulls away from Chidi as he turns to look at her. “What? I know what I said at the balloon, but I didn’t _mean_ it. Of course I don’t want to just _abandon_ them.”

“No – no, sorry, I know. It’s just – “ Chidi presses a palm to his mouth and turns to pace. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but are we actually gonna have to resort to violence? That sounds bad and also _maybe_ impossible!"

“It’s okay, Chidi,” Janet says. With a _boop_ , her Bad Janet disguise morphs back into her normal outfit. Her hair's brown, too, and she starts to finger-comb it out of the Bad Janet style and back to something resembling her own. “I’ll resort to violence for you!”  

Tahani produces a comb from somewhere and moves to help. Fussing over someone seems to help her relax a little. "Are you sure? I know you and Michael are close. And this really _isn’t_ your fault, darling. You don’t need to make it up to anyone."

"Thank you for saying that." Janet holds still to let Tahani do her work. It's the first time she's been still since the yogurt shop. Now that the relentless forward motion has stopped, Chidi can see traces of exhaustion in her too: her brow is creased, and her eyes are dark and troubled, her gaze somewhere far away from here. Janet’s always seemed so indefatigable before. It's unsettling to see her worn. "But that isn't the reason. When I was glitching, I asked Michael to kill me to protect the neighborhood.”

“Oh...Janet, I didn’t - “

Janet cuts Tahani off with a sharp shake of her head. “It's fine. He didn’t do it. But if I could ask him - the him who _wouldn’t_ \- I know he'd want the same thing now, to protect all of you. It's what we've both been trying to do this whole time. Besides, it has to be me! Humans can't kill a demon.”

"Can _you?_ " Chidi asks. He doesn't like to push, not after a speech like that, but he has to know. "He _does_ have control of everything in the neighborhood."

Janet, though she still looks tired, turns to him and smiles. “Well, not _technically_ everything.”

 

* * *

 

The night can't hide anything from Michael’s eyes. It can only hinder the humans, and so they wait until morning to start back into town.

Janet encouraged the humans to try and get some sleep. Considering the circumstances, though, it's no surprise that neither of them managed much. Tahani looks haggard, and if _she_ does, Chidi can only assume that he's some kind of shambling corpse. The adrenaline from last night has worn off, leaving them to lean close together as they slowly pick their way through the ruined streets. The whole neighborhood looks like it was hit by a bomb, pieces of brick and masonry scattered around like a child's Legos, but they didn’t hear any explosions. Chidi thinks it must be some elaborate form of psychological warfare.

Janet's being as cautious as possible, scouting out the neighborhood block-by-block before she lets the humans follow. Tahani waits until she's moved off again before bending to whisper in Chidi's ear. "So, be honest. Do you think this is really going to work?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Chidi watches Janet's retreating back. He knows it's not a great answer, but it's all he's got. What does he know about any of this? "Janet thought it would. Plus, it's kinda the only plan we have."

"I guess it is." Tahani smiles ruefully. "I'm just so tired of all this creeping about. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it, if this fails and we just have to run and hide for our lives again. Do you remember that first week, when we all thought it was the _real_ Good Place and everything was alright?"

" _I_ didn't think everything was alright. Eleanor found me two days in, so I kinda had that whole thing to deal with."

"Oh, right." Tahani winces apologetically. "It's just - I think that was the last time I ever felt truly relaxed. Ever since then, even when we were all alone together, it was never _safe_. I was always worried it was going to end in some spectacular disaster, that Vicky or someone would just burst into the classroom and catch us all in our _illict ethics class_."

"Or Michael'd pull something." Chidi can't help but glance around, even though he’s pretty sure _speak of the devil_ is not a literal phrase. "I’m not the only person who worried about that, right? Like, pretty much the entire time he was there?"

"No, of course not!” Tahani exclaims. “Not at first, anyway. I guess after a point, I stopped thinking about it so much, but I’m not sure I _trusted_ him until recently.”

"Yeah. I thought things changed for me after he apologized for the whole trolley thing." Chidi's never been one to hold grudges. More than that, he’d never expected Michael to even care about getting thrown out of class. It’s not like he’d wanted to attend them to begin with. The fact that he’d bothered trying bribe his way back in was curious enough, but then to have a _sincere apology?_

It meant a lot to Chidi at the time. But he'd been so quick to think the worst of Michael. Clearly it hadn't meant quite enough.

“I never really apologized for almost turning him in to Shawn that day,” he muses aloud. “I would’ve done it right away, if it weren’t for Eleanor.”

“Chidi, no,” Tahani tuts, placing a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t just your idea. Eleanor was the _only_ one who didn’t want to. Honestly, after everything, I don’t think anyone could blame us for it.”

“I guess so.” It would’ve been a betrayal of trust. He’d truly believed that Michael had already betrayed them, just as he’d betrayed them eight-hundred-odd times before, but turnabout is _not_ ethically sound. Chidi’s pretty sure that getting Michael retired would’ve haunted him later. Considering what Shawn's done so far, he probably would've rubbed their faces in the fact that Michael was only trying to help for, conservatively, the literal rest of time.

Still, he forces a smile. It’s moral particularism, right? Sometimes you do what you have to do - and he didn’t even _do_ it. Eleanor would get mad if she knew he was beating himself up. “Anyway, you’re right. It’d be nice to go a few days without some horrible threat looming over our heads. You’d think we’d be done with threats. I mean, _we’re already dead!”_

“I’m glad at least _one_ of you understands that this is serious.” Michael, leaning against a nearby wall where he absolutely was _not_ three seconds prior, smiles as Chidi and Tahani jump back. “Hi. Me again. I was starting to worry that none of you humans got the point of being in Hell.”

“ _Why_ must you keep on sneaking up behind us?” Tahani bursts out. “It’s very rude! _Janet!"_

“See, that’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. Complaining about your literal torturer being slightly rude? Get with the program, Tahani, I’m not your _friend – “_

With a _boop_ , Janet reappears in front of Michael. “Oh! You’re here!” Her smile is too wide, sharp and brittle all at once. “That’s _fun!"_

Michael rocks back on his heels with a frown. “You…” For a second his hand seems to drift towards one of his pockets, but then he points it in at her instead. “You’re a _Good_ Janet.”

“I am! And I’m going to need you to give me the other two humans back now!”

“How did you even get here?” Michael ignores Janet’s words entirely, shifting and glancing back over his shoulder. Just like Chidi did earlier; does  _he_ think someone might be listening, too? “Did an angel bring you? This doesn't...I mean, obviously there's an explanation...”

Chidi knows he should run while Michael's distracted. They had a plan. Getting caught here sure wasn't a part of it, but as long as they’re free they’ve still got a shot.

But instead, he just stands there. Something’s weird. He considers himself kind of an expert in discomfort, and what he's witnessing right now seems like some real grade-A stuff. Michael’s been thrown off his game. Why? What does it mean?

“Come on,” Tahani whispers, tugging at his arm. “We’re not far from the train, we might be able to make it.”

They haven’t even _tried_ doing the right thing. He doesn't mean that to sound judge-y. He knows why they haven’t: it seems borderline suicidal. But if there's even a little bit of a chance, one tiny fraction, then they should at least try. Shouldn’t they? If there was ever a time to be a moral particularist, surely it’s not among friends.

Not after the last time.

“You go.” He waves Tahani away, and steps forward without watching to see if she goes. He hopes she did; otherwise, he’s gonna feel really bad, really soon. “Hey, uh, can I interrupt for a second here?”

Both the immortal beings stop whatever argument they were having and look at him. “Chidi!” Janet hisses in warning.

Michael just heaves a put-upon sigh. “What is it now?”

Wincing apologetically at Janet, Chidi proceeds to ignore her entirely in favor of Michael. “I just wanna say, you…you know everything about us, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Michael turns fully to face him, as if honing in on his anxiety. “Like, I know that your first girlfriend broke up with you on your very first dinner date, because you spent half an hour interrogating the waiter about how ethically sourced their meat was or wasn't. She never regretted it, you know, none of your exes ever did.”

Chidi winces. That's a fun story to bring up! “Cool, cool. So you know I'm completely against lying. It’s morally impermissible, I just – I can’t do it."

"Uh-huh. You're a boring nerd, I noticed. Even if you tried, you’d be terrible at it.” Michael gestures. “We’ve been talking for maybe thirty seconds and you’re already rubbing your nervous palm sweat on your pants.”

"Okay.” Chidi deliberately clasps his only slightly drier hands together. “So, I'm not lying, or making up some kind of story. This is what really happened: you were our friend, and you were trying to help us escape the Bad Place, but Shawn caught us and erased your memory to set up some kind of _terrible_ multilayered torture chamber for all of us at once, which we are now all trapped in!"

The words spill out in a rush. Chidi has to gasp for breath at the end.

Michael stares at him.

"So..." Chidi rubs his hands together and forces a smile. Whatever reaction he was expecting, it was not silence; he hadn't really planned this far ahead. "...you're _kinda_ torturing yourself too right now, and you should...maybe stop?"

"No." Michael’s return smile contains far too many teeth. "No, none of that is possible."

"But - but it is! I mean, it was," Chidi stammers. Yes, this is more along the lines of what he thought might happen. "Obviously now, it's not. I mean, depending on how you define the self, I guess maybe none of that even applies to you right now, but it still _happened."_

“It did!” Janet pipes up. She still looks nervous, darting glances between the two of them, but her support buoys Chidi a little. “I was there the whole time! You remember – I was right there in Shawn’s office just now, when he gave you that assignment. That was right after he wiped your memory. You didn't expect to be in there right then, did you?”

“ _Y_ _ou_ shut up!" Michael's eyes flash dangerously as he turns on her. It reminds Chidi of nothing more than a cornered dog snapping its jaws. “You’re just a Janet, what do you know about anything?”

“Everything!” Janet exclaims, stamping a foot in exasperation. “I know _literally everything!_ That’s the whole point of me, you _know that_ , Michael! And I don't know how you do it down here, but Good Janets don't li - ”

Michael cuts her off with a sharp motion. Very literally – he waves his hand like he's swatting at an irritating fly, and a sudden  _boom_ shakes the street, dust clouds rising in a ring around them _._ Chidi stumbles against the nearest wall, but he's lucky. The concussive wave of force sends Janet flying, over one of the nearby crumbled buildings and entirely out of view.

“ _Janet_!” Chidi’s own voice sounds muffled to him. He touches his ear, and his fingers comes away red.

"And _you._ ” Michael wheels to loom over Chidi. “Do you know what I am? _Do you_ , Chidi? I'm an immortal demon. I've been torturing people for more time than you can even comprehend. I would never throw away my entire career,  _everything_ I've ever worked for, for the sake of some frankly unremarkable little humans like you four. And if any demon ever  _was_ stupid enough to do that, getting a second chance is the _best_ thing that could possibly happen! You think that kind of mercy comes easy in the Bad Place? I'd owe Shawn _everything!_ ”

The demon seems to tower above him, drawing himself up even taller than his already-tall human frame. His hands are curled into white-knuckled fists. But there's also a slightly unsteady edge to his words. Despite everything, even the ringing in his ears, Chidi recognizes it.

He lets out a soft breath. _Oh_. Oh, he sees.

“...you already  _know_  this doesn't make sense." Chidi clenches his jaw and forces himself to catch Michael’s gaze and hold it. "You _believe_ us, don't you?" 

Of course. How didn't he realize? Convincing him of the truth was never going to be enough. Michael  _had_ thrown away everything for them; why would he, without the benefit of those months of learning and slow connection, ever be willing to do it again? To him, it's just a wild story about how he came to the brink of retirement, all for nothing more than a group of cockroaches. Seeing all the evidence of his own past actions, those of a person he can't even begin to recognize, must be _terrifying_. And Chidi - who couldn't handle the video Eleanor showed him, who shut it all down so he wouldn't have to thinkabout it - Chidi can't really blame him for that.

"Look," he whispers. Speaking is starting to hurt just as much as hearing, and he wonders vaguely if some blood vessels in his throat have burst, but he can't think about that now. "You don't have to be scared. We can all figure this out toget..."

His voice dies as the pain in his throat sharpens suddenly into something unbearable. His knees give out underneath him even as he lifts his hands to claw at it. He can't find any wounds, but he tastes warm iron in the back of his mouth.

He doesn’t hit the ground when he falls. Instead, Michael's hand darts out to seize him by the collar, lifting him up. He tries to get his legs back underneath him, but they're trembling too badly now. Even if they weren't, his head is swimming. He can barely figure out which way is up. All he can do is hang there in Michael's grip. 

"I don't  _need you,_ " snarls a voice somewhere above him. "I already know what I need to do."

 

* * *

 

Tahani makes it within sight of the train station. She makes it within sight of the others too, and that’s the trouble.

“Jason! Eleanor!” Her feet are aching from days of running, but she still runs down to them. "What's happened, are you okay?" It's a stupid question to ask. She can already see that, even as she darts from one to the other, laying her hand against Eleanor’s cheek as if to confirm that she’s still warm and solid.

Because she can't go and touch Jason. The skin of his lower face is blackened and blistering, lips melted together in a twisted mockery of the silence Michael always tried to force on him, and she’s afraid she'd only hurt him more. _He was so handsome too,_ is the first thought that springs to her mind, and she hates it - she _hates_ that, why is she always the one of them who has to leap into pettiness?

She presses a palm against his chest instead, swallowing at the familiar intimacy. “Oh, Jason, what did he _do_?” But all Jason can do in return is shake his head.

“You should leave, babe.” Eleanor’s voice is a hoarse croak, doubtless speaking Jason's thoughts as well as her own. Tahani doesn’t need to wonder what happened to her; her whole neck’s black and blue. Was Michael torturing them all night? How many other injuries might be hidden beneath their clothes? She's heard him make the occasional off-handed reference to his previous work, but it's so different to see it now in the flesh.

If she thinks on that too much now, she might cry. Tahani takes a steadying breath and glances up towards the train station. It’s not far. She knows leaving Jason and Eleanor for now would be the smart thing – and really, could anybody blame her? It’s too practical to be entirely immoral. It would help get them out of here in the end. Even _Chidi_ told her to run.

But he didn’t do it himself. Chidi stayed behind to try to help _Michael_ , of all things. How could she let him do that if she wasn't willing to take a similar risk herself?

“No,” she decides aloud. “No, you’re coming too.” The chains holding them up are heavy, hung with old-fashioned iron locks. She doesn’t have a key, and of course she doesn’t know how to pick locks. She’s not a common criminal. But she knows she can find some way. Tahani al-Jamil will not be discouraged by a piece of barbarism straight out of the seventeenth century!

There’s plenty of debris laying around the entire neighborhood from whatever temper tantrum Michael’s been throwing. Down here is no exception. Tahani leans down to pick up a brick, weighing it cautiously in her hands. As improvised weapons go, it isn't much. Tahani's used force before, but always in more refined contexts. A brick is absolutely nothing like a fencing sabre. But then again, how difficult can it really be to just smash things?

She lifts it high, and brings it down on the chains supporting Jason as hard as she can.

The impact jars her, vibrating right down to her bones. But it's a little thrilling, too! The chain doesn’t break right away, but even so she can't help the ragged smile that breaks across her face. It feels so good to just do  _something_ finally, something real and physical that can  _help._ She can do this!

With her second strike, bits of metal start to flake off part of the chain. With her third, an entire chunk of one link snaps away. “Almost there,” she says to Jason encouragingly. “Just hold still, I’ve got you. Here’s what we’re going to do - ”

She shares the plan with them as quickly as she can. It’s a good thing, because she's only just finished when she catches sight of Michael coming down the cobbled street. “No, no no no - “ She can’t suppress her terrified mutters. There’s a creak of bending metal as Jason strains against the damaged chains; his eyes are wide with fear, but despite his injuries, Tahani's almost certain that it's fear for _her._

“Boy!” Michael calls out as they make eye contact. “Gotta say, I didn’t think you had that in you, Tahani!” He’s dragging a limp Chidi along by the collar. For a moment she fears the worst - whatever that means for someone who's already dead - but no, Chidi's still breathing, short shallow wheezes that make her stomach seize with worry. 

“What have you done to him?” She lifts the brick in warning as Michael gets closer, but he doesn’t make a move towards her yet. He just drops Chidi and leans to peer at Jason’s restraints.

Chidi barely catches himself on his hands and knees. Even as Tahani wavers, torn between rushing to his side and keeping Michael in view, his limbs convulse, and he drops onto his side with a pained gurgle. Foam bubbles up from between his lips. Behind her, Eleanor’s chains clatter loudly.

“That?” Michael doesn’t even deign to look at either of them. “That’ll be the seizures. From the hemlock poisoning - all the rage among _philosophers,_ you know!”

Tahani makes an infuriated noise and, without quite thinking, hits Michael in the back of the head with her brick.

She staggers back in disbelief at the way his head snaps forward. Did she really just do that? _Can_ she have done it? But there’s no shock of red in his white hair, no blood at all. He doesn’t even have the decency to fall over before turning. “Really?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. Tahani smashes the brick into his face.

His glasses snap. Something else crunches, and for a moment she’s flooded with guilt. She’s not as close to Michael as some of the others, perhaps, but he’s a friend. His seeming betrayal wouldn’t have stung her so badly if he weren’t.

But then his hand darts out to seize a fistful of her hair. She shrieks and drops the brick without meaning to, instinct driving her to grab at his wrist. He laughs and kicks it away. “Oh, this is _just like_ one of our office parties! You really _are_ a generous host, aren’t you, Tahani?” He twists, yanking her head down and around to make her face Chidi. She clutches at his hand, trying to dig her nails in. But it _hurts_ , and she can see Chidi there heaving on the ground, fingers scrabbling at the stones like he's still trying to stand. It all seems unreal. “Do you remember when Kamilah got that undercut, and you thought that maybe you were finally the pretty one now? Guess she was right about the practicality.”

Something metallic screeches behind them. There's a loud _crack_ , and suddenly the pain in her scalp is gone.

Tahani whirls to see Jason, free with the shackles and broken length of chain still around his wrists, bearing Michael to the ground like a linebacker. She sees Eleanor, who’s tugging at her own chains with a frantic hoarse litany of _come on come on come on,_ and she doesn't stop to think, she just scoops up her brick and goes to her side. _Clang! Clang!  -_ and then Michael’s on her again, but before he can do more than grab her wrist, Chidi lurches into him from behind, and with another one last whack, Eleanor’s chains break loose.

“Sorry, bud,” she croaks, and promptly punches Michael in the face.

When Michael hits the ground, he’s laughing. “Now  _this_ is better! I knew you wouldn't keep up all that sappy bullshit. Here, check this out.” He elbows away Jason's attempt to pin him, raises a hand to snap his fingers, and - 

reality

splinters.

Eleanor gasps as her right leg gives out from under her, pale splinters of bone piercing through the skin. Michael lunges. Her head hits the cobblestone with a sickening sound, but before he can do anything else, Jason comes from behind, grabbing him around the middle and using their momentum to carry them over and -

\- Michael’s hands twist into claws, piercing through Jason’s forearms. His scream can’t make it out of his ruined mouth. Everything’s like the tilt-a-whirl at the Jackonville Fair, except instead of vomit flying past it’s chunks of the neighborhood, chunks of a cut-out night sky glittering, chunks of invisible icy cold. Maybe seeing the world fall apart should make him feel something, but mostly he feels like he might add vomit to the mix. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds onto Michael as tight as he can, while somewhere Tahani screams  -

\- something flies through Tahani, or _she_ flies through _it_ , and the world goes dark. Maybe it isn't there anymore, maybe it's all gone. But the brick she's swinging makes impact with  _something._ With Michael? It has to have been, she can't have hit one of the others! Stumbling, she reaches out. She can’t feel her hand, but she can see the skin sloughing away like so much ash as she blindly gropes for -

\- _Behold Dis,_ Chidi thinks wildly, and realizes that he must be delirious. They told Socrates to walk until he couldn't feel his legs, then lay down to die. Chidi can't feel his legs. But also, he thinks, _behold the place where thou with fortitude must arm thyself,_ and though there’s something hot and thick bubbling up his throat, he grips Michael’s arm and clings as his legs give out _._ -

\- fuck this, fuck this, fuck _all of this._ Eleanor won't let Michael just _do this shit!_ Snarling through her pain, she wraps her arms around Michael’s middle and -

\- the world is burning, _Jason_ is burning, but the train station is still standing. And he can't die twice, can he? So he ignores it all, lowers his head and wraps his arms around his friends and pushes -

\- “JANET!” Tahani screams, half-running and half-stumbling along with the group. Michael’s not trying to escape them, he's only trying to hurt whoever's nearest, his smile flashing in a sharp crescent as he jerks Chidi’s head back. He can counter anything Janet does, except the one thing only she controls, that even Shawn had to bind her to prevent -

\- Chidi's throat works as Michael’s nails pierce into his scalp, but it makes him look up and see the familiar train station roof above them, solid and steady where nothing else is. He remembers the last time they were here, a leap into faith, and manages to croak out, “ _C_ _all a train!”_

\- Eleanor pulls Chidi out of Michael's grasp, and for a second everything narrows down to the two of them: her looking up into Michael's eyes, both of them standing on the edge of something that only one can survive. She wishes...no. No. She doesn't. She imagines Michael with Shawn’s shitty ferret face, and shoves him as hard as she can over the edge of the platform, just in time for the shrill whistle of -

There’s a horrible crunch, louder even than the wheels roaring on the tracks. The neighborhood snaps back into place, perfect and pristine. The train doesn’t even lose any speed as it barrels past and disappears into the distance.


End file.
